I'm Sick of Classic Literature

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I love literature. I enjoy being immersed in stories and having an escape from reality. But you know what I don’t love? Unnecessarily verbose and slow-paced literature. Unfortunately, my experience with classical literature has often been a slog through expositions on sips of tea and house interiors. 

Don’t misunderstand me, I see immense value in reading classical literature. It offers an affecting perspective on older cultures that a history textbook can’t provide. Classical literature also explores timeless themes and tells many gripping narratives. These strengths notwithstanding, many classical authors infest their writing with insipid details, which dissuade me from finishing their books. Sure, I could be more patient, but as someone who reads fiction primarily for entertainment, I despise having to endure hours of exposition for the possibility that I may like a classical novel. 

I’ll concede that not all classical literature is boring, but that is an exception and, sadly, not the norm. The classics that I did enjoy, such as To Kill A Mockingbird and The Prince and the Pauper, contained details that enriched their narratives with wit and scarcely overembellished them. For example, many of the descriptions of the Finch household in To Kill A Mockingbird are of modest length and serve to charmingly illustrate the dynamic between Atticus, Jem, and Scout. I can’t, however, express the same sentiment with The Count of Monte Cristo, where Dumas’ prattle ruins the suspense in the plot.

This incidentally connects to a broader issue with literature: you don’t need to describe everything—every breeze of wind, furnishing, or facial feature—when it isn’t relevant to the story. I don’t care that Dumas is an illustrious author. He still shouldn’t have laden his book with excessive descriptions. Now let me drop another epiphany on everyone: The power books have over every other medium is that they allow readers to construct an internal depiction of a story. That’s pretty cool, but it seems as though hardly anyone understands this. Instead of thoroughly describing a palace, you can "sketch" a rough image of the palace and let your reader imagine that it’s adorned with golden griffin statues. 

Sometimes explaining minute details, like a daft expression of fury, can benefit a story, but I think it’s usually best to delegate some descriptive responsibilities to the reader. Readers are creative, and I believe they can be trusted, in moderation, to imagine their stories.